Diamond drove back to Concorde House through a thunderstorm while asking himself how a prisoner on parole could find thirty pounds a month to pay for a box number. The money this man was lashing out was a mystery in itself.
In the CID office, he was greeted by Keith Halliwell with the news that The Sky’s No Limit were willing to demonstrate their latest UAV at Combe Down on Wednesday morning. The rough terrain would be no problem.
He bristled at the use of the acronym. “What are you on about?”
“The drone, guv.”
“Call it that, then, so people can understand. Will it have a camera attached?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“We’re not interested in a flying display. Get back to them.”
This sounded like a putdown, and Halliwell’s face showed it, but an order was an order. He reached for the phone.
After Diamond went upstairs to tell Georgina about Wednesday, there were mutterings in the team. Halliwell, clearly bruised, shook his head. “I don’t know what’s got into him. First he wants the show moved to Combe Down and I fix that and now he wants a drone with a camera. I wish he’d make up his mind.”
“I can tell you,” Ingeborg said from across the office. “It’s on the marathon route and he thinks there could be a body up there. The woman he saw running with Tony Pinto didn’t finish the race and no one has seen her since.”
“Doesn’t mean Pinto clobbered her. It’s supposition.”
“It’s more than that for him. It goes deep. He was telling me what Pinto did to that girl Bryony.”
“I know,” Halliwell said. “I was here at the time and the scarring was horrible, but you can’t let a thing like that take root in your brain. You move on. Christ only knows we’ve seen some evil bastards over the years. What’s so different about this one?”
Paul Gilbert had just walked in after his frustrating afternoon. “It was the shock of seeing Pinto at liberty chatting to a woman like old times, like nothing had happened.”
“Maybe,” Halliwell said, “but Pinto is basically a lech. He likes one-night stands. He’s not going to change. Cutting Bryony Lancaster was an exceptional act.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” Ingeborg said.
“What I’m saying is that he doesn’t routinely attack women. He did it once and paid the price and there’s no certainty he’ll do it again.”
“Oh, come on. Get real, Keith. All she did was warn other women about him. For that, she gets her face slashed with a Stanley knife. The guv’nor says he’s evil and I’m with him.”
“And I’m not here to argue Pinto’s case, but there’s such a thing as redemption.”
“A leopard can’t change its spots.”
“No point in reasoning with you, then.”
That evening, Diamond visited Paloma in her house on Lyncombe Hill and told her about the drone demonstration.
“Have you seen one of them close up?” he asked. “You might like to come along.”
“Normally I would,” she said, “but my neighbour Miriam had to go off to Liverpool in a hurry this morning, poor soul. Her mother’s had a massive stroke. I’m keeping an eye on things for her.”
“Round the clock?”
She smiled. “In a way, yes. I’ll show you.” She walked through the sitting room to the patio door and opened it. Out in the garden under an apple tree in blossom was a small brown and white dog with floppy ears. “That’s Hartley. I’m in charge of him as well.”
Hartley lifted his head, barked several times, scampered across the lawn and allowed himself to be fussed over, or, to phrase it accurately, demanded to be fussed over. “Friendly little guy,” Diamond said, straightening up. “A beagle, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He’s a charmer, but he needs watching in the house. Miriam warned me not to leave him alone because he’s very destructive. He chewed through several of her shoes, a Persian rug and an electric cable. The cable is worrying. I’ve got so much electrical gear.”
“You could bring him to the drone show. Up at Combe Down he won’t get bored.”
“He’d eat the drone.”
He laughed. “I’d enjoy that.”
“I suppose I could keep him on the leash.”
“Bring him, then.”
She didn’t answer immediately. “Why are you doing this? Does it have something to do with that man who was released from prison?”
“Pinto. Yes and no. The interest in drones comes from Georgina.”
“She’s forward-looking.”
Piqued, he said, “It’s not her idea. She got it from another police authority.”
“Fair enough. Henry Ford didn’t invent the motor car.”
“Are you comparing Georgina Dallymore to Henry Ford?”
“Okay, Amelia Earhart might fit better. Georgina is smart enough to embrace the new technology. That’s how she gets ahead.”
“I wouldn’t call it new,” he said. “I was flying remote-controlled model aircraft when I was a boy. That’s all it is.”
She smiled at his reluctance to give any credit to Georgina. “A moment ago I asked what’s in it for you?”
“The half marathon went over Combe Down. Pinto finished in a very slow time, but the woman he was pestering didn’t and she didn’t go home that night. It’s a wild, overgrown stretch. Need I spell it out?”
“Do you know who the woman was? Does she have a job?”
“Computer stuff. She works from home.”
“He’s never killed anyone, has he?”
“Not that we know about. I’m sure he’s capable of it.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I spent more hours with the scumbag than I want to remember. How he got paroled, I don’t know.”
“There could be an innocent explanation.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s go indoors.” Paloma picked up a stuffed toy and threw it for the dog before quickly ushering Diamond inside and closing the patio door. “Like they knew each other before the race and ran it together until she got blisters. He stayed with her, but in the end she couldn’t manage another step and told him to finish the race alone, which he did.”
“And then?”
“He went back for her and took her to his place where they spent the night together.”
Fitted the facts, he couldn’t deny, and maybe was more realistic than his own theory. Gut instinct told him not to be swayed. “We’ll see. How about Wednesday, then? Will you be coming?”
“I’ll let you know. I need to see how much work comes in.”
“Do you good to get out.” He added casually, as if it was an afterthought, “Are you still running?”
“Of course. I enjoy it.”
Before he left home in the morning, he phoned the CID room to see if there was any news of Belinda.
Nothing.
He tried the landlady, Mrs. Hector, at the risk of alarming her even more. She said she’d left the chain off the door all night in case Belinda returned, but she hadn’t. “I got almost no sleep and when I did my dreams were horrible.”
He called Deirdre at the probation service. She didn’t sound pleased.
“What is it now, Superintendent?”
“You told me Pinto was due to meet his probation officer yesterday afternoon. Did he show up?”
“Why are you asking?”
Why was he asking? He was always being told to watch his high blood pressure. He could feel it right now. “It’s a simple question. I told you my concerns about him.”
“He missed the appointment. I’m not surprised.”
So casual. “Why not?”
“If he ran in that half marathon on Sunday, he’s probably exhausted.”
“Have you checked? Has anyone checked? Isn’t it normal to check if your clients, or whatever you call them, miss their appointments?”
“He’s been reliable up to now. I expect we’ll hear from him. I don’t understand why you keep calling us.”